“O black winter of savage death that froze the spring of your unnumbered charms. The tomb tore you from brilliant day in this, your bitter sixteenth year. Your husband and father—blind with grief— Think of you, Anastasia, who were our sun.”
“O black winter of savage death that froze the spring of your unnumbered charms. The tomb tore you from brilliant day in this, your bitter sixteenth year. Your husband and father—blind with grief— Think of you, Anastasia, who were our sun.”